Meg's Discworld Drabbles
by meggie272
Summary: Random-word-inspired 100-word drabbles. Mostly Watch-centric, quite fluffy ; Vimes, Angua, Carrot, Sybil, Susan, Granny WW and so on. Rated for adult themes. Please read & review.
1. Snag

**Hi everybody :) **

**As a writing exercisey thing I found a random word generator and from each word generated I wrote a 100-word drabble. Most of these are to do with the Watch, and most of them are fluffy. Sorry XD I just don't seem to be in the right mindset for funny recently. Whatever.**

**So each drabble is a separate chapter and the title of each story is the word that inspired me. **

**DISCLAIMER: Terry P owns everything, I is just playing.**

**---------------------------------------------------**

**Snag**

Oh dear. They've hit a snag.

"LOOK, Carrot, you're just going to have to do it. I've got to go, I'm going on to patrol now!" Angua rams her helmet on.

"But…but…" Carrot looks at her with all the helplessness of a new daddy. He loves little Ginger, but some things he is a bit perplexed about.

"Carrot!" Angua is exasperated now. "This is the Century of the Fruitbat. Men sometimes have to do women's work. _Get over it."_

She gives him a quick kiss on the lips and runs out. Carrot sighs and places Ginger on the changing table.


	2. Assist

**Just to avoid any confusion, these drabbles are in no particular order and they don't connect in any way :)**

**DISCLAIMER: Terry P owns it all etc.**

**-----------**

**Assist**

Vimes grunts and strains. He's too old for this now! This is ridiculous. Ten years ago he'd have been able to do it, no problem.

"Sam? Need a hand?" Sybil stands behind him, one hand on her hip and smirking.

He wipes the sweat off his brow and blushes. "It's a stupid statue anyway," he mutters.

"I like it. It's a nice likeness of you. Here, I'll help."

"Sybil - "

She helps to lift it, and she's surprisingly strong. She grins at her husband.

"Sybil, you surprise me every day."

...

"Er. Um. Maybe after this we could, er - OUCH!"


	3. Pose

**Sorry, this one's kinda lame…**

**DISCLAIMER: Terry P owns all of em. *sob***

**-------------------**

**Pose**

"Come on everybody!" yells Otto Chriek. "A nice Hogsvatch picture of ze Watch for ze Times!" Vimes rolls his eyes, he hates photos, but he stands up straight and forces a grin. Nobby is going to pay for the reindeer ears.

Carrot stares straight at the camera and smiles broadly, one hand unobtrusively on Angua's back, who is blushing a little.

Detritus towers at the back along with the three golems, and a myriad of dwarves stand at the front, tugging each others beards. Cheery has very nice mistletoe earrings and is wearing red lipstick for the holiday spirit.

_Click_


	4. Water

DISCLAIMER: Terry owns everything. Do I need to put this on every chapter? Oh well, just to be safe ;)

**Water**

"Bloody rain," Angua mutters as she marches along the streets.

"I thought dogs didn't mind rain," chirped Sally.

"Well, I haven't got a fur coat on now, have I? Why are you so cheerful?"

"Well, there's no sun out, is there?"

"Mm."

"Your shirt is getting see-through."

"Shut up."

"You really should have kept your armour on."

"I'm just gonna head to the pub. Also, I left it at Carrot's by accident, it would be pointless going all the way back to Psuedopolis Yard. Anyway, shut up."

"You left it at Captain Carrot's?"

"Stop smirking. And shut up."

"Sorry."


	5. Steel

**DISCLAIMER: These characters all belong to Terry Pratchett.**

**Oh and WARNING, this one has references to sexual abuse, but nothing graphic. This one's mainly the reason for the T rating. If you think it should be higher, please tell me.**

**Steel**

The criminal was backed up against a wall. Carrot's sword wavered under his nose. The captain's normally friendly blue eyes were ice-cold now.

"If I ever, ever see you doing that to a lady again, I will run you through with this sword," whispered Carrot.

He whimpered. "Please, sir, she said yes, it wasn't like that…"

"She was screaming, John, and they were not screams of happiness."

The sword travelled down to his stomach. Not many people saw Carrot truly angry, and when they did, they usually wished they were somewhere else, like Fourecks.

Fear the good ones.


	6. Tracking

**DISCLAIMER: Terry Pratchett owns everything. I don't.**

**---------- **

**Tracking**

That was one thing that Carrot was hopeless at. He stood out so much.

But Vimes was one of nature's lurkers, able to hide in shadows and creep along walls and think himself invisible.

His day-to-day life seemed to be filled with more paperwork and politics and negotiation than ever before, but occasionally he got the chance to track a criminal through the city, moving through the thick cloak of night and shrouded by the misty rain, pattering on his helmet.

And he loved it almost as much as the breathless chases that he never got to go on anymore.


	7. Recruitment

DISCLAIMER: Terry Pratchett owns everything. I don't.

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**Recruitment**

Vimes had seen a lot of strange people, but Susan Sto Helit seemed to top the list.

She sat straight in her chair, white hair with a black streak pulled back in a neat bun. Her eyes seemed to bore right into him.

"Says here…you used to be a governess and a children's teacher?" He raises his eyebrows.

"I know what you're thinking, commander, but I think I would be good in the Watch."

"How?"

"Well, I can walk through walls, for one. And stop time. And talk in Death's voice."

"Death's voice…?"

LIKE THIS.

"Ah, _that _would be it."


	8. Moving

DISCLAIMER: Terry Pratchett owns everything. I don't.

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**Moving**

Carrot shoved the double bed into the room, muscles pumping on his bare arms.

"Well, it's all done." He smiles at Angua. "Our bedroom." It's sparsely furnished – bed, desk and absolute necessities – but it's theirs.

"Yeah." Angua flops on to the bed, exhausted. Her own place with Carrot. She never thought it'd get this serious.

Carrot lies down next to her and places a hand on her stomach. It's flat. For now. She snakes an arm around his shoulders and lets her eyes close, drifting off to sleep in his arms.

Then again, she never thought she'd get this pregnant.


	9. Foot

DISCLAIMER: Terry Pratchett owns everything. I don't.

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**Foot**

Carrot sat up against the wall with no shirt on, one foot stuck out and a slight grimace of pain on his face.

Angua gently tied the last knot of the bandage made from his shirt around the bloody wound on his foot.

"At least it was the foot," he said quietly, "and not…anywhere else."

Angua squatted in front of him. "You're too cheerful, Carrot."

Her heart was still beating frantically and she tried to compose herself. What if the crossbow had gone into his heart, or his head? _Shutupshutup. _

"Sorry." He winced. Angua reached forward and touched his cheek.


	10. Weather

DISCLAIMER: Terry Pratchett owns everything. I don't.

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**Weather**

Granny Weatherwax is in the forest. The sky is a heavy, leaden grey. How she feels these days.

She knows Nanny Ogg is worried about her, and maybe she's the only one who cares. The other people would miss what Granny Weatherwax did for them, but they wouldn't miss _her._

The thing is, she's old now and she can see it in her future. Death. A blank, a few weeks ahead. A yawning chasm.

"Might as well accept it," she muttered, and plopped on to a log.

The rain started to fall.

"That's just theatrical," she snapped at the sky.


	11. Metric

DISCLAIMER: Terry Pratchett owns everything. I don't.

**Metric**

Ridcully sings loudly in his bath tub, scrubbing his back.

"And then the maiden said to the priiiiiince… Oh my lord will you not show me some of your…"

His voice dies away to an embarrassed splutter as he remembers the rest of that particular folk tune.

Ah, this is life. Ridcully _likes _being Archchancellor. He likes magic and he likes bossing people around. Works perfectly. Although some wizards these days…well, they're just not the same. Take Stibbons, a bright lad but a bit weird.

He's invented some stupid thing called the metric system. Maybe Ridcully should take him fishing.


	12. Coffee

**DISCLAIMER: Terry Pratchett owns everything. I don't.**

**Coffee**

**--------------**

"Coffee," said Vimes brightly to Sybil, who was darning a pair of his socks.

"Hmmm?"

"Coffee. Best thing in the world."

"Er…are you sure, Sam?"

"Yes. It is my best friend." The fog of exhaustion has been chased away by a jittery brightness, thanks to coffee.

"I think you drank too much."

"Nonsense!"

"Besides? Aren't there better things than coffee?"

"Nope."

"What about…oh, money?"

"I've survived without it, dear. Can't survive without coffee."

Sybil raises her eyebrows. "Love, then?"

"Love?" Vimes frowns. "Well, yes, but if you're tired, you can't appreciate it."

"Do you love me, Sam?"

"Yes, dear."

"Good."

**So that was all of them. Whew a lot hey? **

**Please read and review **

**Meg xx**


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